


Handsome Jack's Hunting Trip

by oldmenfucker98 (mentalismmaria)



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Other, Oviposition, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Xeno, threshers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-14 20:51:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2202657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mentalismmaria/pseuds/oldmenfucker98
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>jack takes a delightful trip out to the highlands to conquer the infamous thresher, with special unwilling guest sir hammerlock in this fun tale for the whole family</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. This is a fantastic idea

“Look at that one! I’m gonna fuck that.”

Handsome Jack half-stood in the back seat, pointing over the head of the driver to the tentacled beast that had erupted from the ground. The thresher, a worm-like, tendril-sprouting creature covered in moss and other natural debris was as big as the Hyperion jeep that roamed the highlands. The guide Jack had hired squinted at the man, then at the alien, and then at Jack again.

“Sir, these creatures are _highly dangerous_ —“

The Hyperion CEO glared from his precarious position, hanging onto the roof beams of the vehicle. “I’m not paying you to lecture me, buddy, I’m paying you to tranq’ that sonnuvabitch up so I can put my dick in the tubey bits.”

His hired guide sighed wearily, running a hand through his muttonchops and reaching for his pack in the floorboards. Jack was hardly the sort of person Hammerlock expected to hire him, always figuring that the younger man would prefer to just mortar a beast to smithereens if he ever wanted to go ‘hunting’. As Jack enthusiastically explained his plans to the adventurer, his intents became clearer… and unsavory. Jack had heard rumors about threshers capturing hapless humans and fauna to forcibly mate with them, though the exact cause for this behavior had yet to be properly documented. On one hand, the gentleman scholar would have a _very interesting_ article to write if Jack did indeed manage to fuck that thresher, as well as a hefty paycheck and a healthy dose of publicity for his next almanac. On the other, he could have very well signed his own death warrant with that contract; or at least Jack’s death warrant, though that would hardly be a huge loss.

Getting the thresher to mistake Jack for a mate was going to be tricky. The actual criteria for these supposed encounters with the monsters were never fully specified, some claiming that it was a certain smell they gave off, or a certain vibration they sensed from underground, caused by walking in a particular pattern. A lot of these stories seemed to be drunken tall tales, but honestly, who would lie about being _fucked by a thresher_? As the catcher, no less. It was even stranger that Handsome Jack, of all people, seemed dead set on replicating these encounters personally. He didn’t mention his reasoning behind it. Hammerlock didn’t want to know, really.

Hammerlock loaded a dart into his gun, taking note of his approximation of the beast’s weight for the dose. They just needed to take the aggressive edge off of it first. As much as Jack probably _deserved_ to get his dick torn off by a thresher, his guide was keener on doing his job correctly. If something happened to Jack on his own time, well… that would just be too goddamn bad. The hunter’s employer seemed far too enthusiastic over this for his own good, almost bouncing in his seat as their driver came to a stop a safe distance away from the beast, as Hammerlock directed. He propped the stand of his rifle on the roof beams of the jeep, and carefully followed the motions of the thresher, waiting for the opportune moment before pulling the trigger.

The thresher let out a screech, jerking its enormous head around before setting its sights on the jeep. Hammerlock commanded the driver to circle it, keeping their distance from the angry alien as its movement became sluggish. It attempted to pursue, the effects of the tranq slowing it down before it could gain on them, eventually slumping into the ground in lethargic defeat. Its tentacles lazily swayed, seemingly docile in its sedation.

Jack was out of the jeep before Hammerlock could stop him, eager to approach the massive beast with a disconcerting lack of caution. The illustrious man of Hyperion produced a suspicious looking device from the back of the vehicle, something that resembled a metal detector. He gave Hammerlock a smirk over his shoulder.

“I had my boys in research and defense look into how threshers use seismic vibrations to communicate. If they’re right – and they _have_ to be, I’m payin’ them – this will give off the same vibration as a thresher in heat.”

Hammerlock squinted at the gangly man pulling down his too-tight jeans. “Are you so sure that this is going to work?”

“Look – hey, I’m not paying you to be a skeptic, here! Now, you wanna watch history be made here or what?” Jack sneered, switching on the device and planting it firmly to the ground. It gave off a low, faint hum as Jack took to touching himself, brazenly stroking his cock to the heavily drugged form of the beast. The thresher’s tentacles stirred, moving as though underwater in the direction of the masturbating man. Hammerlock cocked his gun, and anticipated something gruesome to happen.

The thresher’s tentacles closed in on Jack, sizing him up almost as they ran up and down his lithe form. Jack moaned rather obscenely, far too into this than Hammerlock ever really wanted to see. A tentacle topped with a tubular orifice brushed close to his dick, and Jack took that as an invitation, grabbing the appendage with both hands and lining up the rubbery lips of the opening to his erection.

“I don’t think that’s very wise, sir!” Hammerlock halfheartedly called out.

“I don’t care!” Jack retorted, irritated. Hammerlock settled into his seat in the jeep, concerned but also mostly morbidly curious. Just how grievously injured Jack will end up from this encounter? He hoped it would be a lot. The driver seemed even less thrilled than him, trying very hard to occupy himself with his phone.

Jack was about to penetrate the strange orifice when a tentacle snuck up on him, curling around a leg and jerking him upwards with a screech. Hammerlock shifted, but made no move against the beast, biding his time. Jack shouted and cussed at the monster, kicking fruitlessly as more prehensile appendages snaked around his limbs to keep him still. All the while his cock was at full mast despite his distress, spurred on by the rough treatment, if anything. Skinnier tendrils began to snake into openings in his clothes; under his shirt, at the bottoms of his pant legs. A few slid under his dick and behind his balls to make him yelp and squirm as every available nook and cranny was explored.

Hammerlock leaned forward, curious. He took note of the way the thresher handled jack, and how some of its long limbs began to achieve what he could only describe as a state of arousal; otherwise blunt tips opening to reveal delicate feelers, pale and moist. The rest of its limbs took to ripping off Jack’s bottoms (despite his loud protests and whining about just how _expensive_ those jeans were). The orifice-tipped member stayed in the sidelines, not participating at all.

The seasoned adventurer frowned as Jack was stripped, revealing his lily white ass for all of Pandora to see. Hammerlock kind of wished he brought a book to occupy himself with at this point. Jack was getting into it, though; bucking into the open air and groaning as the feeler tipped tentacles dipped into the crack of his ass, inducing a shudder and a wanton groan from the man. They seemed slick enough to cause little friction of discomfort in their victim as his anus was found and promptly penetrated. Jack lurched forward in the thresher’s grasp with a choked moan, but the excitement on his masked face was clear.

The thresher’s head stirred in its place set on the ground, its many limbs working slowly but smoothly, still very much drugged as Jack was stretched horizontally a few feet in the air. His legs spread obscenely. The phallic tip of the feeler pumped into him a little more at a time in a steady pace. The pleasured sounds drawn out from the man made Hammerlock grimace; He didn’t want to hear _Jack_ of all people making those kinds of noises. Jack didn’t even seem to register that Hammerlock was there anymore, really. He was too lost in the sensations, cock bobbing uselessly as the tentacles wrapped around his arms stretched him lengthwise.

An impressive amount of strange alien cock was being stuffed into Jack, and the masked man in question seemed enthusiastic to say the least. He struggled in his bonds, not to escape but to better rock against the tentacle inside of him, something that the monster seemed to notice. The thresher pumped into Jack roughly in a way that made Hammerlock wince in empathy from the sidelines, but all Jack did was buck and moan, barely articulating what sounded like “More.” It seemed to oblige him, pulling out roughly. The lubrication the tip of the feeler excreted leaking freely from the man to drip down onto the dirt. Hammerlock noticed the orifice-tipped tentacle moving towards Jack, but said nothing about it. Far be it from him to disturb a delicate act of nature such as this.

The orifice slipped between Jack’s legs to replace the other tentacle, forcing its way into his abused hole with a nasty sound. Jack grunted and clenched weakly around it. It was thicker than the others, and after a few thrusts into him it seemed to dilate, rippling inside of the man’s ass. He grunted from the discomfort, shuddering around the strange, phallic limb. Alien warmth filled him and shocked him out of the lust-induced lull he let himself get fucked into. Jack tried to protest when the dripping feeler jabbed into his open mouth mid-shout, silencing him. All the while, Hammerlock passively took notes on the scene.

After the initial gush of fluids, a very clearly solid mass squeezed out of the orifice of the tentacle, buried deep in Jack’s ass. The illustrious man’s cries of distress were muffled around the tentacle in his mouth; the moist tip oozed something odd-tasting but sweet that he was compelled to suckle, slowly becoming more content with the feeling of being slowly stuffed from the other end. The hard shapes crowded his bowels, swelling his stomach uncomfortably as they were packed in by the thresher. The assault continued for a few tense minutes, with Hammerlock more concerned with writing down a brief description of the act than actually helping the writhing man being spitroasted by an alien. He noticed Jack’s helpless thrashing and saw it fit to try and reassure him.

“Just relax, sir! it seems the thresher has taken you to be a suitable host for its clutch of eggs! This is a marvelous discovery; I don’t think it’s ever been documented before!” The scholar called out to Jack, who screamed with his mouth full in response, legs kicking in the thresher’s grasp. The tentacle in his mouth squirted something thick down his throat at that; and as soon as it settled in his stomach he felt a light, numbing buzz hit him, like downing a shot or two. It had the desired effect of making him settle down, guzzling lazily at the secretions of the feeler while egg after egg slid into his rectum. After the initial discomfort it started to feel good, even. Jack tried to angle his hips better, moaning around the member as an egg rolled along his prostate, then another, then another. His cock twitched, untouched by the alien. Unbearably close but unable to cum without assistance.

By the time the tentacle inside Jack emptied its contents Jack looked pregnant in his second trimester, the contents of his bowels shifting and settling uncomfortably as the thresher pulled out of him with a wet, obscene sound. The man almost mourned the loss of sensation, still hard and unsatisfied as the thresher gently set him down on the ground, tentacles unwinding from his limbs, the sweet, oozing tip sliding out of his mouth and leaving him hungrier than before. As soon as his hands were free Jack was on his cock, reaching around his distressingly swollen stomach to finish what the alien started and finally cum with a satisfied groan. Exhausted and spent, the masked man collapsed backwards into the dirt.

The thresher, perking up from its drugged state but seemingly satisfied from its encounter with Jack, gave the oversexed man little more than a look before retreating back underground. Hammerlock took his time before aiding the naked and helpless man; he still had notes to write, after all. This was all a very educational event and could change how the scientific community looked at threshers forever. He would never admit it, but he was glad to be hired by Jack to help him with this obscene hunting trip, these notes would do wonders for his book. This was bestseller material, for sure.


	2. That was a terrible idea

Jack promptly returned to Helios without a second thought towards his inexplicably gravid state. He could afford to spend a few hundred thousand in hush money, so long as nobody gave him guff about the large pregnant belly he sported. The workers of the moonbase were mostly used to turning a blind eye to the strange predicaments Jack found himself in. Just another day of working at Hyperion.

It had been a week since his encounter with the thresher. Jack tried to take the alien pregnancy in stride – he was contributing to the scientific community after all, and this was apparently a natural thing that had been part of the thresher’s mating habits for untold years. They had to come out somehow. For now, the eggs seemed to be entering ‘the final stages of their growth cycle’ as Hammerlock informed him over the ECH0. Jack looked to be past due should he had been carrying a human child, or perhaps multiples. Just how big were these eggs? How big they were going to _get_? It was troubling, but Jack didn’t savor the idea of a procedure to try and remove them. In fact, as people tried to talk him into terminating the alien brood he found himself getting very defensive. Protective, even. Weird.

Jack rested a hand on his stomach as he worked in his office, stroking it almost fondly. It was rather firm today, the growing shapes of the eggs occasionally shifting inside him and pressing up against his palm. He was far more content with that than he felt like he should be. The discomfort he had been feeling all day was less reassuring, and the eggs had been slowly moving all day. He felt that maybe he should get someone to look at it, but that concern seemed muted in the back of his mind, muffled by strange, unbidden instinct. He should probably walk around a little, get up and stretch his legs. Jack took to pacing his office, cradling his stomach protectively, feeling everything move a little more than usual. Was it just him, or did his stomach seem to drop? Pressure ground against his pelvis in an uncomfortable cramp. Oh _no_ –

He winced as his stomach tightened, muscles clenching and turning it hard. Fuck. His thoughts turned phoning for a doctor, phoning for anybody before his gut rolled again and he seized up. Fluids gushed out of him with a nasty sound, drenching his tight pants. His legs felt weak, pressure and pain mounting as those eggs wanted _out_. He slumped against the desk heavily, hands shakily roaming his gravid form. His legs drew up before he could even start to take his pants off, driven by instinct as an overwhelming desire to bear down on the pressure in him caused Jack to strain muscles he wasn’t even sure he had before.

Jack tried to shimmy his jeans down, wet and uncomfortable and far too snug under his volatile gut. Eggs started to travel downwards, too fast for him to fruitlessly tear at the taut waistband, the blunt end of a shell already pressing against his opening as his muscles clenched. He felt weak during the contraction, hands just barely able to grip as his body was wracked with pain and the overwhelming _wrong_ feeling that came with this strange birth. He wasn’t meant to do this; his body wasn’t made to do this. His asshole opened around the egg, pressing it against the hindering fabric of his pants. They kept it stuck halfway as his contraction died down and the temporary lull caused the egg to push back inside with a desperate groan from the man. They weren’t going anywhere unless he did something.

It seemed to take all of Jack’s strength to sluggishly climb to his feet, leaning heavily on the desk as he desperately sifted through the drawers. He could have cried from relief as he grabbed a pocketknife, rushing to cut the restricting garment from his body. Those jeans probably cost more than a car, but it was a necessary sacrifice. As he tore the shredded denim from his backside his stomach tightened again, doubling him over as the first egg finally crowned unhindered. Jack sank to his hands and knees, and pushed against the pressure.

It was a slow process for the first one, his hole unused to the girth bigger around than his fist stretching him wide before he was ready. The egg plopped wetly to the ground with a fresh dibble of fluid and a groan from the gravid man, but it was only the beginning. His stomach kept shifting, eggs funneling down to take their place in his rectum. He began to hold his swollen stomach, trying to aid in pressing the contents downward despite how the pressure brought tears unbidden to his eyes. Jack spread his legs as far as he could, and pushed.

His anus dilated, red and swollen to better pass the alien cargo, puckering around a second egg before it squelched out obscenely, rolling in the puddle of thick fluids left by the thresher. Pushing them out became easier as Jack’s asshole adapted to the stretching, grunting as he bore down around the foreign objects. A third… a fourth… a fifth squeezed out of him before his limbs just gave out, slumping onto the carpet. His ass was still in the air, legs shaking as another egg traveled down his rectum whether he liked it or not. He was already exhausted, but the substantial swell to his bloated stomach told him the struggle was far from over.

With some difficulty from his gravid form, Jack rolled onto his back, holding the backs of his knees to keep his legs spread as another egg emerged. His breath hitched as it pushed out of him with a soft, wet pop. He leaned as far as he could forwards, the seventh on making its way down just as quickly. As loose as his stretched out canal was it still took a grunt of effort and a push before he could pass it. This went on for what seemed like hours; Jack had gotten into a fairly reliable rhythm of pushing with the tightening of his muscles, the rest of the brood popping out with barely more than a dull ache. Eight, nine ten… he had no energy to push by the time the eleventh egg found itself lodged sideways against his open and leaking hole. Jack sobbed as he weakly curled around his soft, deflated stomach, forcing the stuck egg out with a sputter of fluid, which dripped from him freely now, emptying from his once-occupied bowels. Jack collapsed, staring up at the ceiling with glazed over eyes, a shaking hand feeling up his doughy middle, trying to find any remaining contents. Was it over? It felt like it was over. He hoped it was over.

Later, on the surface of Pandora, Hammerlock was gutting a rakk carcass when he got an ECH0 message from his former employer. Jack messaged him from a hospital bed, as exhausted and unkempt as he last saw him, after his sordid encounter with the local wildlife.

“So ah, Hammerlock, I know your book isn’t out yet, but I was just wonderin’ if you had anything in mind for a sequel? Just curious. Maybe we could work together again sometime, huh? Bring a film crew. You’re into documentaries, right?”


End file.
